Leaving King's Cross
by jadecandle
Summary: Tom Marvolo Riddle gets a  second chance to do it right.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- **Please, please review!

**Disclaimer-** I do not own Harry Potter etc. etc.

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**Chapter 1-A Second Chance**

Tom Marvolo Riddle was standing, robeless, in the middle of King's Cross. For a moment, all he could do was feel.; feel the rush of cool air being pushed in and out of his lungs, relishing the tingle of the sunlight as it filtered down through the glass onto his pale skin. He had been in such agony, for what felt like a millennia, that even just the absence of the pain felt better than anything he had ever experienced.

Tom took a step, just to see if he could. And another. He looked down at himself, thoughtlessly wishing for clothing. A pile of robes appeared in front of him. Tom put them on. They were warm, as though they had been sitting in the sun for hours. Tom had not know that he was cold until that moment.

"Hello, Tom." came a soft female voice. It sounded like chimes in the wind, Tom almost believed, for a moment, that the voice in his own head, but hat was until he turned his eyes to meet the piercing emerald gaze of Lily Evans Potter.

She stood no more than three feet from him, as young and beautiful as the day he had so disastrously extinguished her life. Her dark red hair fell in soft waves down her back, blowing silently in a nonexistent breeze. Her skin was a radiant, pure white. The sight of her made his heart race. A rushing fear flooded him: she was his enemy, perhaps as much as her son had been. She was his first downfall.

"Lily Potter," he whispered. His voice was cool, deep and laced with an icy hatred.

"Tom Riddle." Lily replied, she had a sad smile on her face. Both were silent for a few moments, but he could hear her voice still ringing in the cavernous room.

And in those moments, he could not look away from those damned emerald eyes. Those eyes that were the last image he had seen before he was struck with a curse of the same colour and for an eternity knew nothing but agony. He could see a powerful emotion in them. He had never excelled at the detection of human emotion, but he knew what was in them: pity. Tom loathed pity above all else. Pathetically human weakness. He had seen pity in the eyes of Harry Potter, right before he had been consumed by the torment of death.

"Where are we?" he asked, pulling his eyes from hers as he studied his surroundings. Lily Potter did not follow suit. She continued to gaze at him, serenity still smoothing her lovely features.

"Where do you think we are?" she asked. He glanced back at her.

"King's Cross." he said. She let out a soft, ringing laugh.

"I guess I should have expected that…Albus told me that Harry saw King's Cross as well …during the few moments he spent here. He had shared your soul and many of the same life experiencees as you..." she said, "We are in the in-between…limbo. You have been here since Harry defeated you."

Tom said nothing. Hatred boiled in his veins at the mention of his nemesis and his death.

"I only just arrived here. I only spent a moment here when I came through before. The first time." she said.

Tom felt a strange curiosity.

"Where did you go?" he asked. Her emerald eyes turned back to his, he felt his stomach churn in anticipation.

"On." she whispered. She took a breath and continued, her voice stronger. Her eyes still burning into his.

"I was twenty-one when you murdered me, Tom. I had my whole life ahead of me. I had a sweet baby boy and husband. A husband I loved more than I could have ever dreamed. James and I should have grown old together. A family. Torn asunder by your hands…like so many before me and after me...And yet, you, you have felt no remorse. No unease. No pain. No moral conflictions. No regret except for your own destruction."

Tom remained silent. She was correct. He felt none of those things. He had never felt any of those things. Those emotions were a weakness that came from a connection with others, a circumstance Tom had easily avoided throughout his life. He felt no need to reply to her statements. As though understanding he would not reply, Lily continued on.

"It has been decided that you will get a second chance, Tom," said Lily, taking a step closer to him. Tom fought a strange, unbidden urge to step back. He was inexplicably afraid of her. This spectre from his past, the deathly ghost of the evil deeds that he did not feel.

"Second chance?" whispered the former Dark Lord. Confusion was lacing every word he spoke.

"You will be returned to life. You are being given a chance to atone for what you have done to humanity. You have been given an opportunity to atone for what you have done to yourself. You are being given a chance to get out of... wherever you are right now." the red-haired woman replied her eyes twinkling in the filtered light, "To get out of torment, this flittering hell. We have decided to give you-"

"Decided? And who… who has decided this?" he asked, annoyance rising in his blood.

"Us. The ones who have moved on. It has taken nearly thirty years, twenty-seven years to be exact, for us to reach our decision." she replied.

"Who is 'us'?" demanded the former Dark Lord ice lacing his words. Lily threw her head back and laughed merrily at his impatience. The humour on her face grated Tom even more, his desire to lash out at he was rising.

"The ones you murdered, Tom. All of us. We had some others come in, others whose deaths you had a hand in. The most convincing of all, though, was your mother."

"My mother." he said, scepticism lacing his voice.

"Yes, Merope Gaunt. That is her name, you know. She was allowed to contribute to the decision." Lily said.

"And she advocated for me?" Tom asked, incredulous.

"Of course." Lily replied, her face softening, "Your mother reminded us. Reminded me. It is a terrible fate that you should have been raised without love-"

Tom's laughter cut her short. "I do not care that my blood traitor mother was advocating for me. What I would like to know is why, of all the thousands whose deaths I was responsible for, would you be sent to tell me this? To rub it in that your son triumphed over me?" His rage was mounting. Lily paused, her eyes finally looking away from him.

"I am everything that you are not, Tom Riddle." her voice was quiet, but Tom could hear every word as though it were shouted, " I am exactly what you hate. I represent love, which you never had. That which you have never wanted or understood. That which you have ignored so thoroughly to the point of you own destruction. I represent the muggle-borns, whom you believe are inferior. I am a Gryffindor. I died willingly, for another, while you had to be dragged there by your own evil."

"And for what reason do you think I will change my ways this time around?" he asked, thoroughly disgusted by her.

"Because you now have the capacity to do what you were so unable to in your previous life...Your soul is healed once more. All of the parts you so unwisely severed and divided are now whole... Your soul is being given a chance at redemption, Tom Riddle. I suggest you take it. I suggest you_ live_ for once, not merely exist." Tom watched as the young woman flicked her long, dark red hair behind her shoulder. As Tom Riddle stared into those mesmerizing green eyes, he felt a wave of sickness upon him.

"Most were going to leave you to the wolves, damn you to this existence for eternity. Suffering was all you had brought upon the world and suffering was what you deserved for eternity. But Merope-she reminded me, she reminded us, of what was at sake. A soul was at stake. It may be a divided, mangled soul, but still it was a soul. Your mother loved you. You mother begged us, pleaded on you behalf. She claimed the responsibility for your callousness, your warped self. She loves you, despite all of this. And now you know. You will not know conciously when you return, but she does." Lily Potter reached out and touched his face, for once, he did not recoil, entranced by her words. "And for her, for your mother, we are allowing you to attempt to atone. You are going back to the age of seventeen, the age that you first ripped your soul apart. Good luck, Tom. I hope you find the things worth living for this time around."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you soooo much **Ancolie, hushpuppy22, BitterBlack7**, and **JoshLife 24**! You reviews are really appreciated!

A/N- I do not own Harry Potter etc etc

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Tom Riddle was confused, disoriented and altogether flummoxed. One moment he is racing toward the girls' bathroom on the third floor, flushed with the triumph, the next he is face-planting on the hard ground of the Great Hall.

Tom lay on his back, the cold stone chilling him. He had to think and think fast, but he was finding it strangely difficult to get his mind into focus. A perfectly logical excuse for his sudden appearance in the Great Hall would be expected. Hundreds of possible explanations began racing through his mind. Surely Dumbledore would question him , trying to outwit him. The old coot would fail, as usual.

The Hall was ringing in silence. Though his mind was still racing, Tom felt vaguely surprised that no one in the Hall had run to help him. Mustering all of his energy, Tom pushed himself up from the ground and raised his head to face his peers.

But they were not his peers. Looking around the hall, it was clear that no one recognized him, just as he recognized none of them. Tom focused on the Slytherin table, searching the faces of the students seated there but knew none of them.

Tom turned toward the Head table, still taking in the sight of the gape-mouthed students. Once facing the Head table, in Professor Dippet's chair, there sat an aged witch with a very shocked expression on her stern face.

As Tom's eyes scanned the length of the table, he very nearly betrayed his own complete shock when reaching the far right of the table. There was a thunderstruck Rubeus Hagrid. At the moment , however, the half-giant appeared to be well over the age of thirteen. In fact, he appeared to be well-over the age of fifty.

Tom grappled mentally at the possibilities. Quickly, he turned these possibilites over in his head, weighing the probability of several of the most compelling options.

Tom opened his mouth to speak, but almost instantly found himself bound and gagged on the floor. He heard screams erupt around him and before he had time to struggle against his bonds, a well-placed stupefy hit squarely him in the chest and he saw nothing but blackness.

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As Tom regained consciousness, he realized that he was once again in a different location than where he started. Tom could tell he was in the Hospital Wing because of the horrible uncomfortable pillow beneath his head. There were voices coming closer to him. As any true Slytherin would, Tom feigned unconsciousness. The voices, with any luck, would help him gather information on his current predicament. He would need to be prepared for what was coming. He had been attacked. Attacked in the middle of the Great Hall. Something was not right, and Tom needed to know what it was as soon as possible.

"The Minister, Headmistress and Harry Potter are deciding what to do about him. I saw them walk up toward the Head Office an hour ago." came a soft female voice. The woman sounded middle-aged and kind.

"I think they will have to keep him here. According to all laws, any person of enough magical ability in Britain must be allowed their choice of education," came a middle-aged male voice. This voice sounded extremely weary.

"Couldn't they just expel him now, Neville? Surely, after all that's known about him, he will be proven a danger to students." said the woman. Surely they were not speaking of him.

"I'm not sure. Legally, I think there is very little we can do. From what the Headmistress said, I-I don't believe that will that expulsion will be an option."

"Not an option! He's the bloody-" the woman began to raise her voice.

"We shouldn't speak of this in front of him, it would not be a stretch for him to be awake at this very moment. Harry wants him to know as little as possible before he meets with him. Come, let's go to my office." he heard the sound of shifting seats and the shuffle of footsteps walking away from him. "Harry, I believe, will be given custody..." But Tom could hear no more as the voice faded away.

He was left alone with his own thoughts. It was becoming clearer and clearer to what the only possible explanation could be. But he could not- would not -believe he had been subjected to some sort of time travel. But all that kept flashing in his mind was the aged figure of Rubeus Hagrid and the unfamiliar faces of the Great Hall. Then his mind returned to the word 'Headmistress.' This constant reel continued in his mind, perhaps for around an hour, until he heard purposeful footsteps approaching his bed.

"Tom Riddle." came the man's voice from earlier.

Tom's eyes flew open. A round-faced man stood over his bed, looking at him warily. Tom pulled himself into a sitting position. He was not meeting Tom's eyes.

"You are needed in the Headmistress's office. If you will please follow me."

The man turned on his heel and began walking toward the door. Tom stood up and followed him, walking a few steps behind. It was night time, and the halls were deserted and silent. Tom guessed it was around midnight. Tom had never felt so unnerved in his life: he felt as though he were walking to a hangman.

Tom set to examining the back of the man taking him to the Head Office. He was of medium height, shorter than Tom and had a rounded body. He was wearing a black professor's robes, which suggested his position at the school. He also walked with a gait and posture that suggested extreme tension. Tom opened his mouth several times, trying ask of the questions on his mind, but before he could verbalise anything, they were at the office.

"Here we are." said the man, stopping in front of the gargoyle statue that led up to the Head Office, "Candy Floss."

The passage opened before Tom. The man made a gesture clearly signalling that Tom was to go alone. Tom stepped onto the spiralling staircase and was taken up to the door of the office. The extreme sense of foreboding was consuming Tom. He smothered it and rapped as authoritatively as he could on the heavy door.

"Come in." came a male voice.

Tom turned the knob and stepped in. Another man was leaning against the head desk. He looked to be in his early forties. His head was covered by a mane of wild jet black hair with tufts of silver dusted throughout. His thin face was decidedly handsome, though not distractingly so. He had a strange, lightning bolt scar in the centre of his forehead. Tom could see that the man was usual a jovial sort from the accentuated smile lines around his eyes and mouth. The man, however, did not seem too cheerful, at the moment. He, like the round-faced man, seemed on edge. And he, like the other man, did not look into Tom's eyes.

"Please sit, Tom." he said, gesturing to one of the seat in front of the desk. As Tom moved toward the chair, the dark-haired man did not do what Tom expected. The man moved to sit in the chair beside Tom, not behind the desk. Tom sat in his designated chair. The man, Tom noticed, had still not made eye contact with him and was currently rotating his chair to face Tom's, eyes on the ground. Tom felt boiling anger rising in him at the current situation.

Finally, the dark-haired man raised his eyes to Tom's. Perhaps, Tom thought, he could no longer think of a reason to avoid them. Tom stared into the man's emerald eyes, eyes that for some reason seemed indescribably familiar to him, in fact, he felt as though he had been looking into them only yesterday. But this was impossible; he was certain that he had never laid eyes on this man before him. Unnerving, was the first word that came into Tom's mind. Something in them told Tom that this man knew everything he was thinking and every evil thought that had ever passed through his mind. It was a sense that Tom had only got when he looked into the eyes of the Deputy Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

"So Tom," the man said, breaking the silence, "How exactly have you come to be here? And do you know where you are?"

His vibrant eyes continued to look straight into Tom's own eyes.

"I am at Hogwarts, sir," Tom said carefully, weighing each word, "No one in the Great Hall was familiar to me except a man who could only be Rubeus Hagrid, though he is only thirteen years old, everyone keeps referring to a Headmistress while the Head is Headmaster Dippett: It seems that some occurrence has propelled me into the future. If this is actually the case, I have no idea how I am here, sir. "

"You are correct, Tom, you are in the future." the man said. Tom looked down, his mind reeling with this confirmation.

"And Tom, I suppose I should really introduce myself, I'm Harry Potter," the man said, hesitantly, sticking out his right hand. Tom shook his hand, noticing a strange scar on the hand…it almost looked like writing. Harry Potter seemed to notice his gaze.

"Ah just an old injury," Potter hid his handand continued. "Now, Tom, how old are you exactly?"

"I am a sixth year, sir." Tom replied.

"Sixteen." said Potter, something in his voice that Tom could not decipher. Was it fear or disgust, sadness? Tom could not tell, but it worried and confused him.

"Yes, sir." Tom said with a dip of the head. Tom noticed that Potter's face twitched at the gesture. It was becoming increasingly clear that this Potter had some sort of large issue with him.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was walking the corridor on the second floor."

"The second floor?" Harry Potter sat upright and leaned toward Tom, "And where were you going?"

Tom could hear suspicion in the older man's voice. Tom said nothing.

The man scrutinized him for another moment before shocking Tom with: "Were you going to the Chamber, Tom?"

Nothing could have prepared Tom for this. Nothing. His mouth dropped marginally and shock showed clearly on his face before he set his features back to passivity with a touch of confusion.

"I-I-What?"

"The Chamber of Secrets, Tom. Is that where you were going?"

"The Chamber of Secrets? The legend about Salazar Slytherin?" Tom tried to place a healthy bit of humour and scepticism into his voice. It was not very clear that his act was not fooling the man.

"Tom, please don't insult me. I have already told you that you are in the future. Your misdeeds are out in the open. Drop the façade. I am the last person in this world that it will work on."

Tom stared at Harry Potter, letting the waves of comprehension pass over him. He was in the future. A future where for some reason this man knew exactly who he was. Harry Potter knew all the things he had done and would do. But what had he done? Had his plans gone into effect in this future? How could they if he was here and not in the past to make them happen? Would he soon return to the past to enact all these 'misdeeds' Harry Potter was claiming.

Tom Riddle continued to look into the emerald eyes of Potter, the silence stretching between them.

"I have been trying to keep the Ministry from handling your case." said Potter, looking away from Tom.

"And why, is that, sir? You seem to be accusing me of something which I have no knowledge. A crime I have not committed. I think I would prefer the Ministry to take my case, thank you." Tom said cooly.

"Our justice system is flawed. It is improving, but it is still flawed. I don't think they will treat you fairly." he said simply. Silence again.

"And you are treating me fairly? If you are not a member of Hogwarts' staff nor from the Ministry then-"

"I never said that… I am the Head of the Auror department." Potter said, quickly.

"Aurors? Why are you involved in this?" Tom asked, allowing a bit of alarm to slip accidentally into his voice. Harry Potter looked at him gravely.

"You must know, Tom, that I have been given sole discretion over your case. Let's talk plainly. I can tell you have a question."

"Why would they give you, an auror, sole discretion over my case?" Tom asked, anger lacing into his voice. Tom had thought and planned many terrible things, but so far he had done nothing that would involve aurors.

Harry Potter stood up and walked toward the large window and looked out. The silence pressed on, Tom repeated his question, though he was rather afraid of the answer.

"Sir, why would they give an auror, the Head Auror, sole discretion over my case?"

Potter turned around to face him once again, "That is a long and very painful story... Suffice it to say…for now… that we have a history."

"A history?" Tom asked, startled, scrutinizing the angles of Harry Potter's face, "You aren't my son or-"

"No, nothing like that." The man looked horrified at the very thought.

Potter slowly walked back towards Tom, clearly thinking about the best approach to take for the next bit of information. Tom saw the man age rapidly before his eyes before continuing "Tom, you grew up to be…well."

Tom waited expectantly, his heart pounding. The anticipation making it difficult for him to breathe. This Harry Potter seemed unable to spit out what he was trying to say. An inner debate was showing on the face.

And then he seemed to switch tactics abruptly, standing suddenly and walking back toward the window, his back to Tom. The man's agitation and pacing back and forth from the window was beginning to irritate Tom as much as the conversation was.

"Lord Voldemort, Tom. Have you come up with the name yet?" he said in a soft voice. Tom felt the air sucked from his lungs. His prized name, known only by his closest associates, his followers. It was always spoken with such reverence by his followers, but in the mouth of Harry Potter it sounded like the most dreadful of curses.

"Sir, I don't-" he sputtered, trying to smooth his voice into its usual deep calm.

"As I have said, Tom, there is very little that you can reveal to me about yourself that I do not already know." Potter said. There was some kind of terrible emotion radiating from his face. Tom could not distinguish which emotion it was. He had never been good at deciphering emotions. though something in Suddenly, his eyes made him seem ancient and wise. Perhaps, Tom thought, Harry Potter was much older than he looked.

"So ,Tom, have you renamed yourself? Have you opened the Chamber? Have you killed your father?"

"My father?"

"You did all those things at the age of sixteen. These are legitimate questions."

"No. I have…I have created the name Lord Voldemort. But no, I have not done any…any of the other things." Tom said. He had not done them. But he had thought about doing them. He had dreamed about them. Of the power that he would feel as he cut down the cancerous blood of his father. Dreamed of purging his precious school with the might of his ancestor's serpent.

Silence.

"Tom, I must ask you to drink this potion." he withdrew a small bottle with a clear liquid. Tom knew exactly what it was and for the first time, his temper broke. He stood up to face the Head Auror, his blood boiling at the situation

"You honestly expect me to just take Veritiserum?" Tom snapped.

"You will take the Veritiserum if you want to attend Hogwarts. Your answers will determine whether you are in fact innocent at this point of any real crimes. If you do not take it, I assure you the courts will send you to Azkaban without hesitation."

"So, I am guilty until proven innocent. That is what you are telling me."

"Yes, I'm afraid your case is unique, Tom."

"How very ethical. I am glad our society has become so degenerated in the year-What year is this?"

"Don't pretend like you give a damn about justice, Riddle." Potter raised his voice for the first time "I know very well that you haven't a care for anyone or anything but yourself, let alone what is morally right. And the year is 2023."

"2023? I have travelled, what eighty-one years?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"And there is no way for me to get back."

"No, unfortunately, there is no way to send a person that far back in time. And even if there were, it would be impossible to send you back, because it seems you were split and sent forward. Tom Marvolo Riddle grew up in this timeline, with no glitch in his life like your predicament. The Department of Mysteries is studying your case, but for the moment it is thought that you are a completely separate entity from the other Tom Riddle, the one who grew up to be Voldemort."

"And what exactly did Voldemort do?" Tom asked, icily. The injustice of it all was consuming him. Angry magic was crackling around him.

"I understand why you want to know Tom, but I highly suggest you calm down. That information can wait until after you have answered my questions." Potter said, placing the small bottle on the desk beside Tom. It was clear that he was to drink it now. Tom stared at it for a moment, then picked it up.

"And you are not telling me your queries beforehand. You just expect me to swallow the veritiserum and be done with it."

"Yes, unless you would like to go to Azkaban, of course." Potter sat back down into his seat, looking expectantly at Tom.

Tom opened the bottle and took a swig.

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**Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N-** Thank you so much for reading, especially those of you who reviewed: Myene, hushpuppy22, polorider421, Ancolie., DiagonAlleyParis. You are the greatest!

**Disclaimer**-I don't own Harry Potter.

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Harry Potter leaned back on his chair, utterly spent from the last few hours. He had been just about to head home from the office when an urgent message came for him from Headmistress McGonagall. The voice that rang out of the tabby patronus was filled with a chilling terror and informed him with the incredible news: a teenage Lord Voldemort had just appeared in the centre of the crowded Great Hall and that the students of Hogwarts were being sent home temporarily for their safety. Harry rushed to Hogwarts, and for the first time in over twenty-five years, felt the faintest prickle upon his lightning bolt scar.

He arrived at Hogwarts as they began to send the students off on the Hogwarts Express. First he had spent an hour arguing with the Minister for custody of his teenage mortal enemy. The next two hours or so were spent explaining to said mortal enemy the circumstances of his arrival, as well as questioning the teenager under Veritiserum to verify his innocence. Of course, Harry knew better than anyone that whatever this young Voldemort was he was not innocent nor had been in a very, very long time.

Harry knew that Ginny and his children would be waiting, terrified, for him to return home. He knew he should get up and head home as quickly as possible to ease her mind. He also knew that Ginny would be furious with him for granting Tom Riddle clemency and volunteering for guardianship over him. She would be even more furious that Tom Riddle would be attending his sixth year at Hogwarts alongside their daughter Lily.

Harry knew that Ginny was probably going to curse him to Mars and back as soon as she heard what happened in this room. Harry doubted anyone, even or perhaps especially Ginny, could understand why he couldn't let Tom Riddle get thrown into Azkaban. Most would say there were exceptions to the rule; that Tom Marvolo Riddle, no matter his age, deserved to rot in Azkaban for his crimes against humanity. But Harry couldn't help but remember that sad, skinless being. That tiny, pathetic wailing creature that he had once seen tormented as he spoke to Dumbledore in the unearthly King's Cross so many years ago.

Tom Riddle had a complete, undivided soul. Harry knew it was a dark soul, filled with hate and despair, never touched by the light of love or humanity, perhaps, but still there was hope for him. Harry had to believe that there was hope for Tom Marvolo Riddle. That the other orphaned boy who had been raised with indifference could, with a little help, turn his hate around and become a real person, not the revolting creature that still haunted Harry's nightmares.

Harry stood, stretched and began to walk toward the Portraits of the Headmasters. His eyes quickle fell upon the one he had searched for. Albus Dumbledore was awake and smiling, looking down at Harry with a twinkle in his eye.

"You are a fool, Potter." came a familiar oily voice. Harry turned his head to look into the black eyes of Severus Snape. The painted Snape was standing near the edge of the frame, glaring out, a large, plush emerald chair sat behind him near a fire.

"Hello, Professor. I see you heard my conversation."

"Of course I did, Potter. You expect to reform the teenage Dark Lord? You are more arrogant than even I thought." snarled Severus Snape's portrait.

Harry laughed.

"Do not suppose for a moment, Potter, that I haven't heard your son's middle name. It is revolting that you should be-"

"Now, now Severus," chidded Albus Dumbledore. The silver-bearded figure came walking into Snape's frame, settled himself down in the chair, "We mustn't argue with the honor bestowed upon us in-"

"Honor?" cried Snape outraged, turning to face his companion. "That insufferable boy is not only the spitting image of Potter but-"

"Oh, Severus, I know you have enjoyed Al's visits to us nearly as much as I." Dumbledore said with a laugh. Snape scoffed and glared even more piercingly at Harry.

"You presume too much, Dumbledore." said Snape, eyes still on Harry.

"But for now we must turn our minds to the pressing matter at hand. Tom Riddle has reappeared in our midst and will soon be rejoining this school." said Dumbledore.

"Yes, because Potter doesn't have the wherewithal to throw him in the most highly guarded cell in Azkaban and be done with it." replied Snape with venom. Behind him, Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at Harry.

"While I believe your choice was admirable, Harry, there is still a great threat posed by Tom Riddle. You know as well as I do that the young Tom Riddle was exceedingly capable of the highest caliber of manipulation and coercion. To protect against such coercion, I believe you need at least one teacher on staff that you can trust beyond a doubt. Of course you will have Minerva and Neville, but perhaps one more would do the trick. Professor Edwards is looking for an assistant for the year, I would suggest getting someone you trust into that position."

"Yes, very good, sir. I will look into it. The students will return on Monday. Until then, Riddle will be staying here under Neville's strict superv-" began Harry.

"You are allowing the Dark Lord to stay at Hogwarts under the supervision of that blundering fool! The boy can barely produce a memory potion without demolishing his cauldrom." cut in an aghast Severus Snape.

"Neville is more than capable of keeping an eye on Riddle. He will be under constant supervision. During the day, I or one of my aurors will be on grounds at all times." said Harry.

"You are absurd, Potter."

"Excellent, Harry, excellent!" said Dumbledore at the same moment as Snape, "I'm afraid, Mr. Riddle, will delve as deeply as he can into Lord Voldemort's misdeeds. He will come to hate you, Harry. I urge you not to let him be consumed by that hate. You must steer him, it will be a battle, but you must treat him fairly and with leniency. I suggest you recruit Lily to help you with-"

"Lily? No, that is a terrible idea. I intend to tell her to stay as far away from him as possible." said Harry horrified.

"I quite agree with Potter on this account, Dumbledore. The girl-" began Snape.

"You will need someone here at school to offer young Mr. Riddle support. Lily has a great heart, just as her father and grandmother-"

"Yes, so let's throw her to the dogs-" said Severus, glaring at Dumbledore. He seemed beyond irate.

"I'll think about it. Goodnight, Professors." Harry did not intend to think about it. His youngest, his bright-eyed beautiful daughter would deal with Tom Riddle as little as possible.

Harry made his way to the fireplace, still listening to the muffled debate coming from the two former Headmasters. Sighing, he grabbed a handful of Floo powder and set off for home.  


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As he had expected, his wife flew at him, grasping on to him, clearly relieved that the teenage Voldemort hadn't murdered him in cold blood.

"Oh Harry, thank Merlin. The rumors flying around. Is it really him?" Ginny Potter asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, as he turned to embrace his daughter. "Yeah, it is definitely him. At sixteen."

Harry looked into his daughter's face. Lily had already seen him when he appeared in the center of the Great Hall. Harry felt a bit nauseated as the advice of Dumbledore's portrait came back to him. That Lily should help Tom Riddle. Looking at her beautiful face, never truly scarred by the war, Harry felt a great twinge of dread.

"So you took him to Azkaban then? Did you escort...Harry...Harry you didn't…" Ginny's voice trailed off. Harry knew that he would have to face her wrath. Her anger, after all, would be justified. He knew that he would have to explain to almost everyone he knew why he had made the choice to protect Tom Riddle.

"Ginny, he hasn't-"

"What is being done with him, Harry?"Ginny's voice was getting increasingly high pitched, never a good sign. Harry could see his sons and daughter backing up slowly as though fearing an explosion.

"He will be watched at all times while at Hogwarts-" Harry began to sputter.

"WHAT! Lily, Al, James get out." yelled Ginny.

"Mum, we are perfectly old enough-" began James with a huff.

"James and I are of age! Only Lily-" started Albus.

"Hey! I'm just as mature-" Lily smacked her brother's arm angrily.

"GET OUT NOW!" barked Ginny Potter, her soft brown eyes practically throwing sparks.

Lily, James and Albus scrambled out as the tip of their mother's wand burst with flames. Lily closed the door behind them, muffling the sound of their mother's irate yells.

"Don't worry, I figured this would happen." said James with a smirk. He reached into his pocket and pulled out three sets of Extendable Ears.

"Brilliant, dear brother." said Albus as he reached out to take one. Lily, too, grabbed one eagerly and placed an end into her left ear. The three siblings crowded near the door silently as their parent's conversation reached their ears.

"Harry, you can't be serious! Lord Voldemort. That's who he is. You are letting Lord BLOODY VOLDEMORT just roam around Hogwarts. Have you gone completely mad?" screamed Ginny.

"Now, Ginny I know-" there was a definite plea in his voice.

"Don't Ginny me, Harry Potter! You want to let Tom MARVOLO RIDDLE just wander around Hogwarts while Lily and Hugo and-"

"What am I supposed to do, Gin?" their father's usually tight rein on his temper broke, the siblings glanced at each other in amazement "He's sixteen."

"Sixteen! Oh you must mean the age when he killed several people including his own father and RIPPED HIS SOUL APART!"

"He hasn't done any of-"

"Or do you mean the same age he was when he possessed me, made me set a mad snake on my friends, came out of a diary and tried to STEAL MY LIFEFORCE!" There was a growling sound from James' throat at the mention of their mother's first year of Hogwarts.

"Ginny, please…" he pleaded. There were a few minutes of silence. Then a light shuffling.

"Harry, I get why you are doing this, I really do. But it is foolish Harry. It will never work." her voice was soft now and Lily had to amp up the volume to the maximum on the Extendable Ears to hear her.

"Ginny, we need to give him a chance." he whispered.

"Why, Harry? Why do we have to? He is probably the most evil thing to walk the earth, certainly the most destructive thing. Why would we have to give him a chance?"

"I just do, Ginny." their father whispered.

"I don't understand it, Harry. You of all-You already gave him a chance. You gave him a chance at the Final Battle." The sadness in her voice was overwhelming.

"No, I gave one eighth of a soul a chance for remorse." Lily could hear her father pacing now. His voice was extremely agitated.

"Which is more than most others would ever consider doing." said their mother's voice imploringly. "Harry, this is insanity. We both know what he is capable of. Whether he has-"

"So we should just throw him into Azkaban?" There was definite anger in his voice now.

"I don't know, Harry…" sighed her mother.

"I interrogated him under Veritiserum. He hasn't committed any crimes yet. No murders, no horcruxes."

"Yes, but Harry, he is sixteen. He would have committed all of those atrocities at this age."

Silence reined for a few moments, until Ginny broke the silence.

"Let's get some sleep. I can see that you're exhausted. We'll discuss this more in the morning."

Lily, James and Albus reeled in the string of the Extendable Ear, their mind whirling with this information. A teenage Lord Voldemort was at Hogwarts, he would be there, at very least, for the remainder of the year. They began to run upstairs, so as to not be caught red-handed by their parents.

"My room. One hour." said James. Lily and Albus nodded and turned into their separate bedrooms.  


* * *

  
Tom Marvolo Riddle could not sleep. He was laying down, staring up at the green canopy above him. He had been led by a house elf to this empty bedroom in the staff reality of his situation kept rocketing up through his mind, tormenting him relentlessly. He was more than seventy-five years in the future. Seventy-five bloody years. He had clear idea as to what had happened in that amount of time. One thing was certain, however, and that was that his future self was most definitely dead. Nothing was more inconcieveable to Tom than this simple fact. He had…died…All his elaborate plans, all his horcruxes had failed and he had succumbed to the horribly human weakness of ignominious death. It revolted and terrified him, that his one great plan had failed.

And he had been subjected to questioning by the Head Auror, a man who claimed to know a great deal about Tom. He could remember none of the questions asked of him under the Veritiserum. He knew this to be one of the side effects of so powerful a truth potion. He could feel the fire of hatred welling in his heart as he thought of Harry Potter, the man who had forced him to take the potion and likely recount all of his misdeeds. But the man had already seemed to know most of them, even those that he had not yet put into effect. Even those that had not been formed in his mind. The man had informed him that the students had been sent home for the night and would return around noon the next day. Tom was shocked that the students would have been sent home because of his appearance.

Tom needed to know as much as possible about his future self, so as to ward off the same weaknesses that had led him so far astray in this timeline. Tom would defeat Death this time around. He had been given some sort of chance to triumph over that human weakness and grasp the hand of immortality. He would find some other route to immortality, beyond the horcrux.

It was with these thoughts that Tom finally found himself lulled to sleep. Tomorrow, with any luck, he would begin his new quest for knowledge and immortality. He would conquer the pathetically human phenomenon of death. He would stretch the bounds of immortality and magic as far as he could. He will live forever. All-powerful. Eternal. Unconquerable.  


* * *

  
Lily was exhausted. Last night, she was ripped from her dinner in the Great Hall, shoved on the Hogwarts Express in a panic and picked up by a frantic Ginny Potter at King's Cross. Then, she and her brothers had spent the entire night discussing the developments concerning the appearance of one Tom Marvolo Riddle. It had been nearly dawn when they split and tried to get some sleep. Lily estimated that she had got nearly an hour when her mum banged on the door demanding she help with the laundry. Lily couldn't help but feel that this was ridiculous considering the fact that she could not use magic to help.

So, here she was folding laundry by hand when all she wanted to do was collapse onto her green quilt upstairs and sleep until seven in the evening. Lily pushed her long mane of dark red hair from her face and folded the one remaining shirt in the mix of laundry. Lily could here her mum fumbling around in the kitchen. Lily was a bit confused as to why her mother was making such a ruckus when she was supposed to be writing up an article on the latest match between Puddlemore United and the Appleby Arrows.

As she sorted through the socks, Lily's mind traveled back to the moment when the warm chatter of the Great Hall was interrupted by a loud crack and the appearance of a strange, dark-haired young man at the front of the Head Table. Lily remembered how the handsome young man had pulled himself up, looked out into the crowds with a slightly bewildered expression and finally let his eyes roam over the Head Table. A shocked Hagrid had then waved his pink umbrella and the boy fell bound to the floor. The Hall had erupted in shrieks as their Headmistress sent a stunning spell to the boy's chest.

Lily had never seen their Headmistress look the least bit frightened. Indeed the aged Minerva McGonagall had always seemed an impenetrable fortress of inner strength. But McGonagall had looked terrified as she gazed down at the prone figure of Tom Riddle. Her usually stern voice had wavered strangely as she ordered the students to head to their dormitories, pack a few essentials and head down to the Hogwarts Express. Throughout their ride home, she and her cousin (and best friend) Hugo had discussed in earnest what exactly had happened and who the young man had been. Hugo had even jokingly said that it was clearly Lord Voldemort come back to ruin our Saturday dinner. Lily had giggled at the absurdity of his comment... how utterly ironic it seemed now.

"Lily!" called her mum, breaking into her reverie. "Are you almost done in there? I've made us some tea."

"I'll be in in a moment, Mum!" Lily called back. She figured this tea would be the pretext to discuss Tom Riddle's arrival. She had been waiting for this talk ever since she had been woken up. Perhaps, her mum hadn't been able to face the conversation until now. Lily sighed, folded the last pair of socks and headed toward the kitchen.

**

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	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate you!**

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Ginny Potter was sitting at the kitchen table looking distinctly stressed. Lily supposed that she would be a bit stressed too if her childhood nightmare popped back into existence and was now free to run around the school her daughter attended.

Lily sat down across from her mother where her mug of tea sat steaming. The table was strewn with rough drafts of her mother's article, but her eyes were automatically drawn to the strange, rune-etched basin. She knew the basin was her father's pensieve which he held under magical protection in his office. Lily felt a swoop in her stomach as she realized the possible reasons it could be sitting there. She looked at her mother expectantly.

"We need to talk about…" Ginny began before trailing off as though she couldn't verbalize what she had meant to say.

"You want to warn me about Tom Riddle." Lily said gently. Her mother nodded. Lily couldn't believe it: there were actually tears forming in Ginny Potter's eyes. Lily didn't know what to say, she had only seen her mother cry on a handful of occasions, usually on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

"I want to remind…I need you to be as prepared as possible…Tom Riddle…" her mother began disjointedly. Her mother was always the feisty quidditch star, but now she looked completely lost.

"You need to breathe, Mum." said Lily, suppressing a laugh. Ginny took several calming breaths then looked back at her daughter.

Lily had never seen her mother look more terrified. Not when James had fallen nearly a hundred meters from his broom. Not when Albus was hospitalized for a terrible case of Dragon Pox. Nor when Lily had been hit by a muggle car…Lily had always looked to her mum as the epitome of a strong woman and to see such terror on her face sent a shiver of pure fear down Lily's spine.

"If you're going to have to face him, Lily, I want you to know enough about him." said Ginny in a voice of forced calm.

"Mum, you're making it sound like he is going to challenge me to a duel to the death in the middle of the Great Hall-" Lily said with a short laugh. She recognized that her feeble attempt at humor had failed miserable as her mother became distinctly agitated and stood up.

"He may just, Lily! Look, he is going to be handsome. Very, very handsome. He is going to be irresistibly charming." Ginny said, looking rather wild.

"I'm sure Lord Voldemort won't be able to charm me, Mum. I know who he is, nothing is going to convince me to trust him." Lily said, trying to reassure her mother.

"No, Lily, you don't understand. You have to stay away from him. I know it won't be possible for you to avoid him completely but-"

"Mum, calm down, it isn't like I'm going to be swooning over the guy like some vapid idiot. I will be careful."

"Oh, Lily, I know you too well. You've got too much of the Potter impulsivity to be the proper amount of careful. Luckily, you'll have Hugo to balance your recklessness out."

"Yeah, he can be a real stick in the mud, can't he?" Lily said with a wide grin. Ginny giggled with her daughter for a moment.

"He takes after his mother in that regard. She was always the sole voice of reason to your father and uncle. They were-well I should say are-completely nutters. But Hugo and Hermione should be on their way over really soon."

"Hugo and Aunt Hermione are coming here?"

"We thought that the information was important for both of you." her mother said simply.

Lily took a long sip of her tea, thinking deeply on the situation.

"Where's Dad? I would think he'd want to be here if you guys and going to reveal all this stuff to Hugo and me."

"He's at Hogwarts right now with Riddle. Your father is now the legal guardian of Tom Riddle." Ginny said. Lily gaped like a fish, unable to speak for several moments.

"Oh my God. Why would he ever, ever think-"

"Your father is under the impression that Tom Riddle can somehow be reformed." Ginny Potter shook her head, "Without Harry's support and guardianship, Tom Riddle would be off to the highest security cell in Azkaban."

"It would serve him right." said Lily, with gusto. They were once again silent for a moment. Each took several sips of their tea. Ginny broke the silence.

"I may disagree with your dad about this whole situation, but he always stands by what he believes to be right. Something that I am proud to say that you and your brothers inherited." she said, placing her mug on the table, "Your dad interviewed Riddle under Veritiserum, asked him all sorts of questions. Riddle hasn't murdered anyone yet. He only very recently found out his father was a muggle."

"So, Dad thinks that he can be saved." Lily said with a sigh. She knew all of this from spying on her parents last night, but it was best to pretend she didn't.

"Yes, he does. And while I don't agree with his decision, I think that it is very important to your father."

The fireplace flared up and a grinning Hugo Weasley stepped from the grate.

"Hey, Aunt Ginny, Lils." he greeted.

"Merlin, Hugo! You're going to be taller than Ron at this rate," said Ginny, looking at her nephew. Hugo had shot up the past few months and was nearly six foot four. Hugo laughed, stepped forward and kissed his aunt on the cheek.

"I know. I can't wait to show him up. Mum'll be along in a minute."

"Would you like some tea, Hugo?"

"Sure, Aunt Ginny," he said, sitting down next to Lily. Ginny stood up and moved to the kettle to make more tea. Hugo made eye contact with Lily and they had a silent conversation as Ginny's back was to them. Both were champions at reading mouths, a talent they developed during their youth to spy on their older siblings.

"What's going on?" mouthed Hugo.

"They're lecturing us to try and scare us." Lily mouthed back, switching her eyes to her mother's back.

"Seriously?" he mouthed, rolling his eyes. Lily wasn't able to answer as the fireplace had flared once more and her aunt stepped out. Hermione Granger shook the soot from her robes and smiled over at her niece.

"Hello, Lily, Gin!"

After the all exchanged greetings, each settled with their cups of tea. Lily and Hugo had expectant looks upon their faces as they watched their respective mothers.

"Well, you are both up to date on what happened last night. Before you head back to Hogwarts tomorrow, we want…well we want to show you both some things about Tom Riddle so that you know exactly who he-" said Hermione.

"Mum, we honestly understand who he is. He's Lord Voldemort for Merlin's sake!" said Hugo. Lily nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, but he is also a handsome, charming, intelligent and highly manipulative young man. I can personally attest, as can your dad to how thoroughly disarming Riddle can be." said Ginny, leaning across the table toward her nephew and daughter.

"Mum, you were tricked and manipulated by him when you didn't know who he was. Hugo and I know who he is. He won't be able to trick us." argued Lily.

"You are underestimating him, Lily, and that is exactly what he'll want. That is exactly why he is so very dangerous." Hermione said, glancing at her sister-in-law.

"I think you're both being a bit paranoid." said Lily, looking at her aunt. Silence fell for a moment as the four relatives took deep sips of their tea. Hugo broke the silence.

"Lily is right, Mum. Riddle has little hope of tricking and manipulating us. We were raised in the family that had the most to do with his downfall." said Hugo.

"Your reaction to this is exactly why we have agreed to show you some…some memories." said Ginny, shaking her head.

"Memories? Like of the battle-" asked Hugo, he could not disguise the excitement in his voice. Lily and he quickly exchanged anticipatory looks. They had never been allowed to see the memories of the war. During the sixth year at Hogwarts, students were taken inside the selected scenes of the two wars and asked to examine them. Lily's father and sometimes other relatives came in those days to give guest lectures.

"No, no nothing like that…You'll see those in Defence this year anyways…These are memories of Tom Riddle when he was still…Tom Riddle." said Hermione.

"But you didn't know him when he was still Tom Riddle…did you?" asked Lily, glancing at Hugo looking unsure.

"No, no we didn't. He was much older than us, older than your grandparents. But your father was shown memories of Voldemort's upbringing to help him on his quest to find the horcruxes." said Hermione.

"And, I'll be showing you a few of my own memories from my first year at Hogwarts." said Ginny, a slight hollowness in her voice. Hermione glanced at her sympathetically.

"The Chamber of Secrets?" asked Hugo excitedly.

"Yes. Well, I suppose we should get on with it then."

Lily and Hugo stood over the pensieve and slowly lowered their faces toward the swirling mists and were pulled into the story of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

* * *

When Tom awoke the next morning, he quickly got dressed with the clothes he found in the wardrobe. As he dressed his mind continued to go over the unanswered questions he still had. There was a soft knock on his door just as he finished tying his tie.

"Come in."

Harry Potter stepped into the small room. Tom felt a strong resentment toward the man. Potter's green eyes moved around the room for a moment.

"I hope this room was comfortable enough for you."

"Yes, quite." said Tom, rather shortly. Potter didn't seem to notice the rudeness of his reply.

"Excellent. Well, we still have much to discuss. We wish to get you relatively acclimated to this time period by tomorrow when the students arrive back on the grounds."

"The students really are gone then, sir?"

"Call me Harry, or Mr. Potter if you must. And yeah, they will be returning tomorrow."

Tom said nothing, but continued to watch the older man.

"If you'll come with me then, Tom."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I left my home without eating anything."

"So, we are going to breakfast, then?" asked Tom.

"Yes, but the Great Hall would be kind of ridiculous if it were just us in there, so I've arranged for us to eat in the kitchens."

"The kitchens, Mr. Potter?"

"Yeah, it will be much more private."

Tom and Potter continued down through the hallway, nearing where Tom knew the kitchens lay behind the painting of the fruit basket.

"Are you going to inform me why it was necessary to send all the students home?"

"I promise to tell you once we have had our breakfast. I don't think it would be a good pre-breakfast topic. I know how awful it is to have vital information kept from you, so you won't have to wait long, Tom."

The two men continued on, Tom glancing at the other man every so often, trying to get a read off of him. From his face, Tom could see that Potter was lost in thought. Clearly, what Tom had grown up to do was rather awful in the man's opinion. Tom could not imagine someone becoming so pensive about a life that was normal…

After Potter tickled the pear, they were greeted by a horde of house elves, all clamoring to provide the men with food. Tom noticed, with a bit of shock, that the vast majority of the house elves were wearing tidy, clean uniforms. The uniforms had the colours of the houses and were made from a soft velvet material.

Harry Potter led him to the large, weathered table that stood off to the right hand side of the cavernous kitchen. The two ate breakfast in relative silence. Tom could tell that Potter was trying desperately to think of some sort of conversation starter, but after the night before, he seemed to be having a great deal of trouble.

Finally, Tom broke the silence.

"Why are the house elves wearing clothes?"

"Ah, that is actually an achievement my sister-in-law Hermione would love to chatter on about." said Harry with a laugh, "Most of the credit goes to her, of course, though she wouldn't say that. The house elves have largely liberated themselves and most are being paid wages, albeit rather low wages."

"So, the ones wearing the uniforms are free elves?" asked Tom.

"Exactly. The ones still wearing whatever they can find refuse to take money for their work. Around sixty percent of house elves are now freed and it's illegal not to offer a house elves decent wages. The number of free elves is rapidly increasing."

Tom processed this information in silence. How strange that someone would care enough to liberate the house elves who were so happy to be enslaved.

"Are you done eating? If you are then I suppose we might as well get down to bussiness."

"Yes, sir. I am."

"The best way for you to understand, Tom, is to just come out and say it." Harry Potter drew a deep breath and once more aged rapidly in front of Tom's eyes, "You became a very, very powerful Dark Lord. You made your first bid for power in the 1970s, killed many people, but you were stopped in 1981. Then around fourteen years later, in the 1990s, you resurfaced. You took over the Ministry, murdered countless people and destroyed many lives."

Tom was silent for a moment, trying to take it all in. He had done it: he had taken over the Ministry. From what Potter had said, he had gained ultimate power in the wizarding world. It was then that he realized that it was very unlikely that Harry Potter would be the Head of the Auror Department if he was in power. And it was even less likely that he would have been treated in the manner he had been the last night and morning.

"And was I defeated or am I still at large?" asked Tom, attempting to appear nonchalant, though his mind was gushing at the information.

"You were defeated thirty years ago, Tom, but not after a battle that nearly destroyed Hogwarts." said Harry Potter, the sadness positively pouring out of his eyes.

"A battle here? At Hogwarts?" Tom was shocked at the very thought. Tom respected and cared about his school, more than he had ever respected or cared about anything or anyone. It was hard for him to imagine trying to take the school by force…But he supposed that his older self had succeeded where even Tom had failed, he had cut the bond between himself and the worldly place of Hogwarts.

"Yes, there was a battle here. A great many died…including Lord Voldemort." Harry Potter's emerald gaze was now piercing Tom with its intensity. Tom felt his throat close up at the man's words. Death. Ignominious, shameful death.

"I-He died?" Tom sputtered.

"Yes."

"How?" Tom asked, his voice shifting back into its emotionless monotone.

"A rebounded Killing curse."

"Nothing can rebound the Killing curse." Tom said, very seriously. There must have been some sort of mistake. The Killing curse was the epitomie of magical energy: nothing could block nor rebound it.

"Yes, actually, at least two things can."

"And what are those things?" said Tom, leaning forward with interest. Harry Potter examined Tom's face for a moment.

"Love, the exact opposite of the Killing curse. The strongest force in the universe." Tom's face showed his disbelief. "And to answer the other we'd have to get into wand lore, which I am rather weak in."

"Love?" Tom could barely keep the skepticism and contempt from his voice.

"Yes, love, Tom."

"You are claiming that love is the strongest force in the universe?"

"Yes." said the man simply.

"Off of whom, may I ask, did the curse rebound?" Tom asked, trying to keep the hatred out of his voice. Harry Potter's face showed a deep sadness.

"It rebounded off of me, Tom." he replied.

Tom just stared at the man. So it was Harry Potter, the kind faced auror defeated him. That is why they had sent him to decide Tom's face.

"You killed me." Tom said, trying to let the words sink in. Trying vainly to keep the hatred out of his voice. Potter stood up and paced for a moment, then turned back to Tom.

"Lord Voldemort killed himself." he said.

"The curse rebounded off of you, so you killed me." said Tom tonelessly. Harry Potter shook his head and moved across the table, nearer to Tom. Tom felt himself recoiling for the man.

"Listen to me, Tom," the man looked rather emphatic, "I did not kill you. I killed Lord Voldemort. You do not have to be him."

"With all due respect, sir: I am him." Tom said, his voice heavy with irony.

"No, Voldemort was…Voldemort was not a man." Harry Potter leaned over the table toward Tom. Tom had to stop himself from recoiling: there was such raw emotion in the older man's eyes. "He sacrificed his soul for a flimsy immortality. He killed himself the day he ripped apart his soul. You are still a man. still have your soul, intact and whole. You can still feel love and compassion, no matter how deeply it is buried. You are not him. You will not become him."

For some reason, Tom could not look away from Harry Potter. At that moment, Tom almost believed in the words the man was saying. That he could make a change, that he could live. But then the moment passed and his hatred returned.

* * *

"So you told him, then?" asked Ginny, from her place on the large bed. Her husband was undressing for bed near the wardrobe.

"Yes, I told him, but only the bare minimum." Harry replied, pulling off his shoes. Ginny could see the agitation and stress in the movements.

"Did you tell him that you defeated him?"

"Yeah." said Harry, not looking at his wife.

"I can't imagine he took that well."

"He kind of just stared at me for a minute or so. Then asked me some questions."

"Was he angry?"

"He was so…emotionless. Detached, you know. I wanted to shake him…" Harry paused for a moment as he unbuttoned his shirt, "And you know, the sick part is, I think I could tell exactly what he was thinking. Exactly how he was feeling. I could tell that he was trying to get information out of me so that he could benefit from it in the future. How did things go with Lils and Hugo?"

"As good as I hoped. The two looked horrified when they got out of the memories and we explained each one in detail to them, so they could understand." Ginny said "Lily cried when she came out of the memory of the chamber."

"Did she?"

"She was very upset by the whole thing. It really made a solid impact on her."

"Well, I just hope that this whole thing doesn't have the opposite effect on her." Harry said, finally stretching out beside his wife.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Ginny asked, turning over to face him. Harry sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

"Do you remember when she was seven and we forbade her to go into the hall closet? Or how about that time we told her that going into the forest behind the house would be dangerous? Or how about the time we warned her not to stick her finger in you cousin's light plug thing and she got shocked? Or the time-?"

"Alright, I get it, Harry." said Ginny with a worried laugh. They were silent for a minute as they contemplated their youngest daughter.

"She gets curious about things and doesn't think. Rushes right out into trouble." said Harry with a sigh. "Even having an auror for a father doesn't deter her."

"For some reason, I am getting a flashback of a little boy running to protect the Philosopher's stone." remarked Ginny with a smirk.

"Shove off, Ginny." Harry said, with a grin. They both paused.

"Well, at least Hugo'll be there." said Ginny, sounding slightly anxious.

"Yeah, and Teddy will be there to watch her as well."

"Teddy?"

"He's taken over the professorship for Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"And you arranged that?"

"He's a full-fledged auror and has been interested in the position for a while." Harry said a bit defensively.

"That makes me feel a bit better. Teddy has always had a good influence over Lily. Much more than James and Albus."

"That's my hope, at least. Teddy's the next best thing if I can't keep an eye on her myself."

* * *

Lily lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her green room. All the memories she had witnessed in the pensieve were swirling around in her head, keeping her from sleep. Flashes of Tom Riddle's degeneration into Lord Voldemort kept forcing themselves into her mind. It was incredibly difficult to think rationally at the moment.

She felt overwhelmingly sad for the poor baby that was orphaned because of his father' abandonment and mother's weakness. But then they had seen Dumbledore's memory of meeting the eleven-year-old Riddle and had been horrified by his cruelty and power. How could some one so young be so cruel and so in control of their magic?

The memories of Tom Riddle had given a face and story to her father's nemesis. Like all of her generation, Lily had known the general story of Lord Voldemort, but after seeing the memories, she understood more fully how utterly ruthless he had been. Lily had never thought about the human element of Lord Voldemort. She had never considered him as a baby, never thought about his parents. Nothing.

Lily began to drift off to sleep again, she shivered as her mind moved unconsciously to another memory. No memory had been more terrifying to watch than the memory of the incident in the Chamber of Secrets. The torturously handsome face of Tom Riddle as he cruelly mocked her father with her mother's death was haunting and terrifying. And he was only sixteen, only her age, when he had opened the Chamber and unleashed the basilisk upon his classmates.

Lily would see Tom Riddle again tomorrow. She didn't know how she was going to handle the whole thing.

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**Please Review**

**Thanks friends.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N-Thank you to everyone who has been reading. I really appreciate the reviews. I, once again, apologize for how long it has taken me to post.**

**Peace and Love, jadecandle  
**

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Lying in his makeshift bedroom, Tom Riddle stared up at the darkness of his canopy. Tom felt that all he had done for the last day was join Potter in the kitchen and stare up at that damned canopy. Usually, Tom relished being alone, not irritated with the moans of all the other pathetic people around him, however, with his new insight into Lord Volemort's terrible fate, Tom felt that some company to get his mind away from his doom would not be remiss.

He constantly thought about the hand that had been dealt to him. His thoughts were leading him to rather vexing questions about something he had always disbelieved: fate… While it was rather difficult for him to believe that his arrival in this time could have been random, Tom did not believe in randomness. The world was full of cause and effect. Filled with wills, and magic, especially dark magic, was the most powerful will of them all. But , no, Tom certainly did not believe in a higher power or some divine being floating in the sky pulling on puppet strings. Tom knew that he alone created his destiny, no one could control him. The only ones pulling the puppet strings in this world were other people, and just as Lord Voldemort had commanded those around him.

Tom felt an extreme rage. Rage at his predicament, rage at this damn time period, rage at Lord Voldemort's fall, rage at Harry Potter. Tom was also beginning to feel rather restless, something that he usually never felt. Around twenty minutes ago, he had heard the footsteps and voices of students walking up to enter the castle. And for twenty minutes or so, Tom had been waiting for Harry Potter to arrive to take him to the Great Hall.

Tom could not say he was looking forward to facing the students of the 2020s, but the anticipation of attending this version of Hogwarts was nearly unbearable to him. Tom knew that he would have less control over the other students in this Hogwarts. The teachers would certainly mistrust him. It would be like having hundreds of Albus Dumbledores on his back, all watching for his slip ups, for him to reveal his true intentions.

There was a soft knock on the door, one he acknowledged immediately. As expected, Harry Potter stood in the doorway. He was wearing muggle clothing: dark pants and a worn-looking shirt. Tom felt an intense jolt of hatred for the man.

"Ready for your sorting, Tom?" Potter asked, with what he must have thought was an encouraging smile.

"Yes, sir." said Tom shortly, stepping into the hall. They began their walk to the Great Halls, their heels echoing as they walked down the corridor at a rather leisurely pace. After a few moments of silence, Tom spoke the question that he had been tossing around in his mind constantly.

"May I inquire as to why I am being resorted? Or has my status as potential Dark Lord revoked such a privilege?" Tom drawled. Tom could hear the buzz of jovial voices as they neared the now full Great Hall.

"You always have the right to ask, Tom. Whether I choose to answer is a completely different matter." For a moment, Harry Potter's emerald eyes twinkled merrily at him. In response, Tom tried to mask the glare on his face, but found it nearly impossible. He could not seem to control his emotions well when Harry Potter was around.

Potter's expression became suddenly grave as he continued, "We thought it would give you a chance to make a different choice between the houses."

Tom paused, gave Potter an incredulous look.

"A different choice?" he scoffed, "I am a Slytherin. The sorting hat sorts-"

"You can chose your house if you ask it, Tom. Perhaps, this time, you can make a different choice and save yourself from the temptation that Slytherin so obviously provides you." said Potter, turning his emerald eyes once more to Tom. For a moment, Tom thought he saw a distinct sadness in the man's eyes, but the moment passed quickly and they continued onwards. Silence fell between them, their footfalls echoing through the crescendo of the voices in the Great Hall.

Potter's words echoed in his head. That he could change from Slytherin, the noble house of his ancestor, his own sacred birthright. It was unthinkable. Tom, above all others, deserved to be a part of Salazar Slytherin's legacy.

All of these thoughts forced words from his mouth. And he broke the silence, something he was loath to do, Tom thought it showed weakness, "You claim to know so much about me, sir, yet you believe I would actually change my house."

Potter glanced toward him, meeting his eyes momentarily, hesitating. Then he looked rather far away, almost dreamy, but extremely sad.

"I don't expect you to, Tom. I'm not a complete fool like you would like to believe…But I wish you would. I truly wish you would."

Tom was silent, contemplating these words from Harry Potter. They continued on until they reached the massive doors that allowed entry into the Great Hall. Tom registered that these doors were different than those there in 1944. Tom vaguely wondered what had caused the doors to be changed.

They stood in front of the two doors for several long seconds, listening to the sound radiating from the Hall.

"Tom, it's time to go in." said Harry Potter. Tom pulled his eyes back to the older man. "Would you like me to go in with you?"

Tom felt insulted by this question. Of course he did not want anyone escorting him into the Great Hall.

"No, sir. I can go in alone." Tom said mildly. Potter nodded, clearly expecting this response,, and stuck his hand out. Tom took it.

"Good luck, Tom." he said. Potter turned on his heel and headed slowly down the hall.

Tom turned to face the door once more. He pulled himself to his full height, brought his shoulders back and reached for the handle of the massive door, turned it and entered the deathly silent hall.

Tom had never been to a funeral service, but he imagined that the atmosphere at one would have been a bit more positive than it was in the hall after he made his entrance. Thousands of eyes were trained on him, but not a single mouth moved. The silence was nearly as oppressive as the stares. No one seemed to breathe as he began to walk toward the Head Table and the three-legged stool that sat in front of it, waiting specifically for him.

Perhaps, Tom mused, he should feel honored by this silence. Their obvious fear of him stemmed from respect for the man he would have grown into if he had remained in his proper time. Their fear of Lord Voldemort kept them silent, however it was not as comforting to Tom as he had originally believed it would be.

His footfalls continued to be the only sound in the Hall until he reached the stool and sat down. The ancient three-legged stool was close to the ground, as it was made for sorting first year. Tom was certain he looked like an utter fool crouching down upon it, his knees practically at his chin, but it could not be helped.

He stared out impassively over the silent crowd. Hearing a sound on his right, Tom turned his head. The round-faced man, Professor Longbottom, approached him and hesitantly began to lower the hat upon his head.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat cried. The hat had not even touched his head. As Tom stood, murmurs were breaking out around the hall, but not a single person clapped as he began to make his way toward the Slytherin table. Feeling rather irritated, Tom kept his chin up and strode confidently over to the table and sat down rather far from the rest of his house.

The vast majority of the Slytherins were not looking toward him. Most were concentrating on the plates of food which sat before then. They were clearly too terrified of meeting his eye. Respect, Tom thought to himself, he should feel honoured that the other Slytherins were not daring to even look at him.

Tom began to fill in plate with the food that had appeared before him. The hall was beginning to fill up with a hum of loud voices. In that moment, Tom could almost imagine himself back in the 1940s. He ate silently, not looking at anyone for a long while. Then, he raised his eyes to survey the hall and his eyes strayed casually over to the Gryffindor table where what seemed like half of the students had the same impossibly vibrant shade of red hair. Several of these red heads seemed to be glaring openly at him. Indeed, there seemed to be an inordinate number of his so-called peers glaring at him.

Just as Tom finished filling his plate, the doors of the Great Hall swung open once again. A rather tall young man of about twenty-five strode confidently down the center of the hall. The most striking thing about this young man was his turquoise-colored hair. Tom glanced around the hall quickly wondering whether this was some new fashion trend in this decade. A large clamor was rising from the Gryffindor table as the same group of redheads who had been so focused on glaring at him began to whoop and cheer for their new arrival.

"Teddy! Teddy!"

The man glanced at the table, tried to cover his smile with a dignified look and carried on to the empty place waiting for him at the head table. When he reached the place, Headmistress McGonagall stood. The students were silenced immediately.

"If you would please welcome Professor Theodore Lupin back to Hogwarts. Professor Lupin will be taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for at least the remainder of the year. As you know Professor Abbot has taken a sabbatical. Thank you."

There was a great deal of cheering from the Gryffindor table as the young professor took his seat. Tom had an inkling that Professor Theodore Lupin had been brought to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him and Tom did not like that at all.

* * *

It was even more evident, after spending the night in the Slytherin dungeon, that he was in a Hogwarts completely different from that which he was used to. Sure, at the orphanage, Tom was used to the looks of fear and hatred, but Hogwarts had been full of worshipful students and teachers. Tom had noticed that he attracted the eyes of most of the other students, just as he had in his days in the 1940s, their eyes were full of the same consternation he had seen in Harry Potter's eyes. Even the Slytherins avoided him like the goddamn plague.

The fear in these students' eyes did not give him the churning sense of power he so craved. He felt, in fact, that their fear weakened him. He had never felt that way before. Tom had always believed that fear was a tool that only fools avoided using.

Tom felt as though the world were unbalancing itself even more.

Tom was strolling through the Hogwarts grounds on his way to the hut of that brainless oaf Hagrid for his first lesson in this decade. Tom could not believe that Rubeus Hagrid, perhaps the most dim-witted man alive, could been accepted as a Hogwarts teacher for more than two decades. It was utterly insane.

As he mused on this new, perplexing Hogwarts, Tom passed a large Whomping Willow. He stopped and looked at it briefly. It was extremely rare breed of tree, in fact, Tom had never heard of one growing in Britain, as they were indigenous to the Mediterranean area. Its branches swayed angrily at his approach, snapping its leaves like whips.

Tom continued on to another willow, this one an average, though rather large, non-magical tree. The tree's branches covered it so densely that Tom could not see in. In his own time, the tree had been only recently planted. Curious, he parted the hanging branches and stepped into the shade. Perhaps, he thought, he would read a bit before facing the half-giant idiot. To his intense annoyance, a girl in Gryffindor robes was leaning against the trunk. Her hair was a dark shade of red and hung wildly around he face in a mass of curls and waves.

She looked up as Tom took a second step toward her. Her eyes met his for only a moment before he tore his away to examine her face. She had high cheekbones and a sloping nose complete with a light dusting of freckles across it. The girl was uncommonly pretty.

She pulled out her wand, eyes never leaving his. As he continued to approach, she stood cautiously, taking a rather defensive stance, as though waiting for some kind of attack. With her eye contact and stance, she looked like a ridiculous mixture of caution and determined boldness.

Still staring him in the eye, she began to dust her skirt off, still with a buried wariness.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. Never thought I'd meet you." she said. Her tone was light, casual though Tom could see the tenseness in his shoulders. He disliked how she had stressed his middle name, making it, the only part of his name he respected, sound contaminated.

"And you are?" he asked, permitting a slight sneer overtake his features. He was going to dislike this girl very much, he could already tell. And Tom was not going to waste his time to charm someone so obviously resistant. He could see very little way that he could use such a girl to his advantage.

"Lily Potter." she said, flicking her hair out of her face and stuffing her wand into the pocket of her robe.

"You are Harry Potter's daughter." he said, a little surprised. He noticed that though she seemed to have lowered her defenses by putting her wand away, the wand was clearly in reaching distance, just in case. The girl clearly was not taking any chances with him.

"Yes," she agreed, Tom noticed a bit of aggression in her voice, "I am."

So, Harry Potter had a daughter. Not only that, he had a school-aged daughter, who seemed to be the same age as Tom. Why had Potter not mentioned that information. Tom supposed that Potter had wanted the girl to stay below he radar as long as possible. Well, that failed rather quickly. Tom took a step closer to the girl. Lily Potter lifted her chin in a clear gesture of sturdy defiance. He was close enough now to examine what could only be described as her mane, Tom noticed that hidden within the strands of dark red hair. Tom noticed that her shade of vibrant red was much darker than that of her cousins who were so obviously Weasleys. Tom knew that Harry Potter had married a Weasley, he had let that much slip to Tom about his own personal life.

" Nice to meet you, I'm Tom Riddle." he stuck out his hand. Tom kept the venom out of his voice with great difficulty. The girl took a hesitant half-step closer to him, clearly not trusting him. She placed her hand in his and shook it and dropped her hand back down rather quickly. Lily Potter looked him directly in the eyes, not blinking. Tom noticed that her eyes were a bright blue.

They both seemed to pause and just look at one another for a moment. Tom had the distinct impression that she was sizing him up, which was laughable. If the girl was Harry Potter's daughter, then she should know that there was no way that she could ever hope to compete with him. But still she continued to stare at him. Tom was about to look away from her out of pure irritation, but the Potter girl broke eye contact first, looking off behind him as though waiting for someone.

"Listen, Riddle, I don't think it's a good…" she trailed off, shifting her weight several times, "I have to get to Care of Magical Creatures."

Clearly, the girl was trying to get rid of him. Tom was not about to let that happen.

"I was just heading there." he replied smoothly. Tom noticed that she wrinkled her nose slightly at this statement.

"Well, I guess we might as well… walk together then." she said, obviously stressed. She turned and began to make her way from beneath the willow. Tom followed her, watching her closely. She was short, something he had not noticed about her when she had first stood. She can a little below his shoulder.

They walked silently, side by side, for a moment or so.

"So, you've met my dad." the girl said, glancing sideways into his face. Tom nodded, thinking with hate to Harry Potter. She let out a short bark of a laugh, not a very feminine one at that and continued, "By your poorly concealed expression, I think it's safe to assume you are not his biggest fan."

Tom did not reply. They continued on in silence.

"I assume you know about the war then?" she said, breaking the silence once again. Tom watched her silently. Her eyes were sparkling at him as she continued, "I'll take that as a yes then."

They were nearing the place where Hagrid stood towering over a group of about twenty other students. Tom had forgotten that Care of Magical Creatures would be taught by that blundering idiot of a half-giant. It was clear when Hagrid spotted them because bounded toward them, nearly knocking over several of the other students.

He felt anger radiating from the giant as he stood in front of them.

"Wha' do yeh think yer doin' Lily?"

The girl glanced up at the giant, turned a bright red at his angry face, and looked at her feet. The giant turned his beetle-black eyes to Tom. Keeping an impassive look fixed on his face and ignoring the timid glances of the other student, Tom took a place standing in the back room of the group of students. He avoided answering any of the questions posed in Hagrid's broken vernacular to the students.

Tom, however, could not stop his eyes from glancing, every so often, to where Harry Potter's pretty daughter stood surrounded by other Gryffindors.

* * *

After enduring Hagrid's unhappy (to put it mildly) looks, Lily retreated to where her cousin Hugo and several of her Gryffindor friends stood staring at her arrival. Lily could tell from Hugo's crimson face that he was downright furious with her. Once she got to the group, he pulled her from the group and faced her angrily.

"Lily, are you serious? It's the first day he's here and you waltz into class with him? Are you mad?" he hissed quietly. The other Gryffindors were pretending to be intently listening to Hagrid speak on the diet of bicorns.

"I was reading under the willow and he just sort of burst in. And what was I supposed to do? And I tried to escape but he was coming here anyways..." she trailed off, looking guilty.

"Merlin, Lily, why can't you just avoid trouble?" he asked, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Well wasn't like I was seeking it out, was I? I was minding my own business, reading and that… man came waltzing on in. Disturbing me and introducing himself and being a regular menace, really." she huffed

"Yes, but you couldn't just give a passing 'hello' to him and run off, could you?"

"Well, he was going to find out who I was anyways," she said, rolling her eyes and shifting her weight, "Might as well let him know immediately. I mean there was really no real way out of the situation, but to introduce myself-"

"Yes, there was! You should have just said 'hello' and run away." insisted Hugo. His voice was raising and even Hagrid, still discussing the bicorn, seemed to the listening.

"Oh, sure like you would have done that." Lily hissed.

"Well, at least I wouldn't have tried to get all chummy with him-"

"I'm definitely not getting chummy with him." Lily felt her temper flaring up. Her cousin was extremely lucky that they were in the middle of Hagrid's lesson, because she could feel the Bat-Bogey Hex rising into her wand. She had to concentrate all her effort to not let it burst, uncontrolled and volatile, out of her wand. Hugo seemed to sense Lily's wrath and turned his attention, whether false or true, to Hagrid.

About ten minutes passed, wherein Lily and Hugo did nothing other than gather possible diets of bicorns into large buckets. They chatted, albeit cautiously, about the upconing game against Ravenclaw where they both would be playing chasers. Both Lily and Hugo had got on the Gryffindor team their third year.

"He keeps looking over here."

"Merlin, Hugo, we just stopped talking about him. He is not looking over here. You are paranoid. Mum and Aunt 'Mione made you paranoid."

"No, he has definitely been looking over here. Looking at you. This is just what they said was-" said Hugo resolutely.

"You sound strickingly like Uncle Percy." Lily said, throwing a particularly disgusting bit of fungi into the bucket. Hugo glared at her, his ears turning a bright shade of pink.

"Fine, but don't complain to me when he tries to cruciate you." Hugo said

"He isn't going to cruciate me, Hugo."

"Hmmm...that's what he wants you to think. Don't be an idiot." Hugo picked up the large bucket filled with various fungi, leaves and fresh meat and began to waddle defiantly on over to Hagrid.

Lily sighed heavily and glanced over toward the junior Dark Lord. He was alone, standing while reading a small dark colored book. He had clearly finished the assignment well ahead of everyone else in class.

Lily strained her eyes to read the cover of the book to no avail. What could Tom Riddle be reading? It must be something revoltingly dark. Suddenly, Riddle looked up from the page, his eyes meeting hers for several seconds. Lily felt a deep swoop in the pit of her stomach, but she could not decipher the emotion.

* * *

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